Bittersweet Parting
by Shire hobbit
Summary: Sam's thoughts after Frodo leaves MiddleEarth. Cowritten with Olivia.


A/N: This story was co-written with "Olivia." It is still a work-in-progress, so we will be adding more eventually. This is what we have for now, and we hope you like it. 

Part One: Sam

The stars appeared - tiny pinpricks of lights against the encroaching night. Their feeble glow was unable to completely dispel the darkness, the grey mist, that hugged the shore, that permeated Sam's mind and soul. His heart too choked with grief, too ripped apart by the agony of separation, of loneliness, stared longingly for any last glimpse of the departed ship that carried his master - his closest friend - away from him. 

Yet, try as he might, he could see nothing, not even a small silhouette in the darkness. There was no trace left of Frodo, nothing left to see or hear. There would be no more laughter, no more shared moments, no more smiles. Sam felt as if everything had just fallen apart, his world had just been shattered. An emptiness settled inside him as the same thought continually played itself over and over in his mind. Frodo was gone...unable to ever return. 

How could he, Sam, have let Frodo go? It was his duty to follow him. He wanted to go. He wanted to be with him, to help him, to serve him. The irony was that it was this same sense of duty that kept his feet firmly planted in the cold, wet sand. He could not abandon his wife and child any more than he could have abandoned Frodo on their long trek to Mount Doom. Sam had never let Frodo go on any journey without him...until now. Now the life of perfect happiness that Sam had always imagined, surrounded by all of those he loved the most, lay in ruins. His shattered spirit flew through the midst, searching for his beloved master. The remainder of it lay in the empty hollow of his heart. But the only outward sign of all this sorrow were the silent tears that coursed down his cheeks.

Those tears, which he could not control, fell to the ground, blending seamlessly into the wet sand. He did not seem to care, though, as he allowed them to flow freely. He understood Frodo could not come back, but his heart refused to accept it. His wife, Rosie, would comfort him; and his daughter, Elanor, could make him happy in ways only a child could. But nothing could ever fill the void inside him...the place where Frodo had been. A lump formed in his throat each time he thought of all Frodo would miss, of all the times he would miss having Frodo around. Time would still go on, leaving Frodo to be nothing but a memory. Why did it have to be this way?

Sam felt a warm hand on his shoulder. Startled, he turned to see his own sorrow reflected back at him. It was not the face whose features, so clearly imprinted on his brain right now, might be lost to time and the frailty of memory. The face might go but the spirit would never be forgotten.

Sam had been so absorbed in his own grief he had forgotten that he wasn't alone. There were others that shared his grief. Maybe not the sharpness of it, but shared it deeply too. Through the eyes of his two companions, Sam saw his sorrow reflected back at him, and knew he was not alone. Just like Sam, Merry and Pippin would remember the sacrifices Frodo made.

"It's all for the best, Sam. It's how it has to be." 

Sam turned his face back to shore, still staring for any last glimpse of that ship he knew in his heart was long gone. He put a hand on top of Merry's, acknowledging the words and the sentiment, although the words could bring him no real comfort and perhaps nothing ever would-except maybe time. Time could ease his pain, but never diminish it. With time, he could heal, though he'd always feel the loss. He'd have his family and his friends, with whom he could find happiness and solace. And perhaps someday, when all was done and the twilight of his life came, he might follow the same path and board the Elven ship to the golden shore...and be able to see his beloved master again.

Another broken voice. Pippin. "It's time to go, Sam." 

Sam nodded and slowly, almost unwillingly, he turned with his companions to return to the Shire, to the comfort of home, clinging to the certainty in his heart, that one day he would return.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

~ "Parting Is Such Sweet Sorrow" - William Shakespeare


End file.
